


Who are You?

by simplescribe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Belts, Blood, Bondage, Chains, Collars, Dom/sub, Dominance, Emotional Manipulation, Face-Fucking, Forced, Forced Ejaculation, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Orgasm, Hurt Daryl, Light Bondage, M/M, Mocking, Negan Being Negan, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Threesome - M/M/M, shock collar, spider gag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8537467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplescribe/pseuds/simplescribe
Summary: "Daryl."The silence stretched thick and tense after this simple spoken word. Negan was grinning down at Daryl, there, in the little bedroom that could be his, in a disbelieving and unhappy sort of way. Dwight had piped up with some threat, some urgency, but Negan had quickly silenced the man, eyes never leaving Daryl's swollen face.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TWD one shot that had been kicking around my mind since the last episode. Was fun to write! Hope you like it. :)
> 
> http://simple-scribe.tumblr.com

_"Daryl."_

The silence stretched thick and tense after this simple spoken word. Negan was grinning down at Daryl, there, in the little bedroom that could be his, in a disbelieving and unhappy sort of way. Dwight had piped up with some threat, some urgency, but Negan had quickly silenced the man, eyes never leaving Daryl's swollen face.

"It's cool, D." Negan purred. "He made his choice. Ain't my problem if he made a dumbass choice." Daryl just stood, tense, waiting for what would come next. Negan rested Lucille against one shoulder, letting out a shaky breath that was nearly a laugh, still eyeing up Daryl's quietly defiant gaze. Then, quick as lightning, he lashed out with a fist to Daryl's face. Daryl could hear him laughing quietly while he recovered, doubled over and disoriented, hand going up to feel at the bit of blood now coming from his nose. "Well!" He barked after a moment, and gestured to the bed. "Hold him down, over the bed, D." Dwight looked perplexed, colour draining from his face. "Ass up, pants down." Negan instructed, grinning. Dwight hesitated, standing awkwardly in the small room. Negan just raised an eyebrow, turning to look at the skinny man. Dwight's jaw was working back and forth, and he seemed to be trying to sputter out some words.

"Is there a fucking problem, D?" Negan asked, flinty eyes trained on the man.

"N-No, I just, I thought, I mean, is this really the best-" Dwight stopped mid-sentence as Negan pointed Lucille in his direction, quirking an eyebrow.

"I-I-I-I...!" Negan mocked, bursting out in a bit of laughter. "I'm pretty sure that I didn't fucking stutter." He growled, taking a threatening step towards Dwight. "You're right though, D. It doesn't have to be Daryl. You wanna take his place?" Dwight was sweating visibly, and shook his head in a curt 'no'. "Or..." he whispered, leaning in. "We could go get Sherry, bring her in here." He grinned maliciously down at Dwight. "It'd be like old times. Well, sort of. At least you'd get to watch." Dwight was turning a peculiar shade of red, not speaking, before reaching out to roughly grab Daryl and throw him towards the bed.

Daryl stumbled, body still weak and screaming in pain from being confined in that concrete hell for however long it had been. The beating hasn't helped, either. Dwight was on him again before he could rebalance, shoving his head down into the soft blankets, one hand twisted painfully into his hair while the other grabbed the cloth of his pants, pulling down, revealing his bare ass to the chill air. Daryl couldn't see much as Negan motioned with Lucille for Dwight to move up onto the bed. "Hold his arms." He instructed, and Dwight obliged, the small bed creaking as he moved onto it, pressing down roughly on Daryl's shoulders and head.

Daryl could feel Negan's presence at his back, even though he couldn't see much. Negan was leaning back, admiring the view. He gave a low whistle. "Damn." he said, "You do not fail to disappoint, do ya Daryl?" He laughed. "That is your name, isn't it?" He moved forward, placing a rough hand on one of Daryl's ass cheeks, causing him to stiffen uncomfortably. That reaction just made him laugh more, hand rearing up to roughly slap Daryl's ass, the sound of it reverberating in the small room. Negan leaned out again, suddenly kicking at each of Daryl's legs with his black cowboy boots, forcibly widening Daryl's stance and causing him to sink further into the bedsheets. Daryl could feel Dwight trembling above him, from where he held Daryl's arms in a vice, eyes focused intensely to the side, not daring to look up at Negan.

A gentle bite of cold metal brought Daryl back to the moment, as Negan playfully tapped his ass with Lucille. A silent promise of what could be if he fought back. As Daryl listened to the metal clink of Negan unbuckling his belt, he seriously considered lashing out, kicking, struggling, maybe getting in some good licks before Lucille ended him. Like she had Glenn, and Abraham. Hot tears stung the corners of Daryl's eyes as memory assaulted him. _My fault._ His mind echoed endlessly. _My fault._ The notion of fighting left him at that, a small, deeply buried part of him wanting the punishment, the torture, because deep down, he knew he deserved it.

Negan's pants were off and thrown carelessly to one side. He held his belt in one hand still, Lucille resting against the small chair, watching with a front row seat to what was about to happen. Negan motioned with one hand, "D, gimmie his hands." And D obliged, pinning Daryl's arms behind his back while Negan looped the belt around them, cinching it tight and tying it in place. Dwight was looking longingly at the door, but Negan just shook his head, looking amused. "You can hold him in place while I have some fun." He explained, "Or, y'know, maybe get your dick sucked a little." His grin widened as Dwight broke out in a sweat, jaw working furiously. "Oh..." He said with mock understanding. "Too soon? I know you said you were fine down there," he looked pointedly at Dwight's crotch, "But I guess you're not keen on getting close to another dude's teeth anytime soon, huh?" Negan threw back his head and barked a laugh, eyes twinkling. "That's fair man. Can't blame you." His eyes focused again on Daryl's bare ass before him, face turning hungry and predatory. "Then hold him still." Dwight's hands gripped painfully tight on Daryl's shoulders, arms twisted back in their belt-bindings, helpless.

Negan moved forward, warm skin brushing Daryl's pale coldness, causing him to tense like a rabbit in a trap as Negan's half-hard cock slid playfully up and down Daryl's ass. Negan let out an appreciative sigh, working his cock up and down the smooth skin as it grew, until it was fully erect and pulsing. Daryl's eyes squeezed shut, straining subconsciously against his bindings. The man's cock was huge- or so it seemed from Daryl's position. Negan spit suddenly, aiming for Daryl's hole, saliva dripping down as he worked it into the hole with the head of his cock. He adjusted his position, one hand on his cock and the other gripping a cheek painfully tight, as he leaned forward and down, guiding the tip into Daryl's tight hole. It seemed an impossible thing, the fat head of Negan's cock pressing painfully into his ass, sharp pain lancing throughout Daryl's entire body. After all the beatings, the hunger, the abuse, Daryl had not expected this level of pain from something so, relatively, small. He let out a muffled groan as Negan pressed forward, merciless, until the tip of his cock pushed through and inside him. The pain was unbelievable. Daryl just ground his teeth, determined to remain silent.

"Shit..." Negan breathed heavily from behind him. "Fuck you're tight. Here I thought you and Rick had been gettin' it on. Guess I was wrong." He let out a shaky laugh, then rammed forward without warning. Daryl felt like he'd been split in two as Negan's cock rammed home, buried deep inside him, and felt the trickle of hot blood leaking out of him, providing some much needed lubrication. Still, Daryl remained silent, teeth nearly cracking with the force of his clenched jaw. Negan twisted a hand into his stringy hair, wrenching his face up and out of the bedsheets. Daryl looked up at Dwight, who was half heartedly holding his shoulders still, face ash grey, mouth hanging open in silent horror. Negan leaned in from behind to whisper in Daryl's ear. "Isn't it fun, being your own person?" He chuckled, "Usually I use a hand to jerk myself off. But you said your name was Daryl, didn't you?" He shoved Daryl forward roughly before beginning to move.

It was agony. Daryl would've taken a hundred beatings over this, any day. Negan pounded him mercilessly, a rough, fleshy, slapping sound filling the silent room. He kept pace, a dull _whap-whap-whap_ , fucking Daryl's ass with a practiced precision. The pain was hot and all encompassing, sharply immediate in Daryl's ass, but somehow spreading outwards to incorporate his entire body. Dwight's hands clutched his shoulders in an almost reflexive obedience, eyes wide and staring out at nothing, refusing to accept the scene he was unwillingly a part of. Negan's hands dug painfully into Daryl's ass cheeks, using them as leverage to better slam into him, muscled arms bunching as he pulled Daryl backwards to meet each thrust even more painfully. The tempo increased suddenly, Negan pistoning into him like an animal, a small pained groan escaping Daryl's lips, but it was easily drowned out by the wet noises of Negan fucking him. Shamefully, he could feel his cock twitching, somehow responding to this depravity no matter how much Daryl willed it not to. It began to grow and harden, pressing painfully into the wood frame of the bed, until Daryl moved slightly, pushing up against Negan, trying to relieve the pressure of his growing cock.

Negan noticed the movement, slowing his pace, eyebrows raising from where he panted behind Daryl, eyes trailing down to where Daryl's cock was pressing into the bed. He allowed Daryl to move up a little, his hard cock pressing much more comfortably into the sheets. "Mmm..." Negan breathed, "You like this, huh?" He gave an experimental thrust forward. "You like being my fuck toy, Daryl?" He gave a few more thrusts before snaking a hand down to grab at Daryl's cock. This made Daryl stiffen even more than the fucking, twisting ineffectively, trying to get himself away from Negan's rough hands. Negan began stroking him slightly, unable to really move much because of the angle. The sensation mingled nauseatingly with the pain of having Negan's thick cock still buried deep. "Maybe I'll just keep you like this." Negan whispered, "Tied up in that cell, ready to get fucked whenever I get tired of D's super hot wife. Sorry, ex-wife." His eyes flicked up to Dwight's face, but the man was still staring pointedly off into the distance, not wanting to be any more partner to this than he absolutely had to. Negan seemed satisfied enough to let him pretend he wasn't here, instead focusing back on Daryl. "That sounds fun, doesn't it?" He released his hold on Daryl's cock, Daryl silently thankful as the pressure of an orgasm had begun sickly building deep in his belly.

Negan seemed about ready to finish up as he began pounding away at Daryl's ass once more, not holding anything back as he fucked the smaller man, hips moving rhythmically, faster, _faster_ , until he was groaning loudly, spilling himself into Daryl's bloody hole, his hot seed squeezing out and dripping down Daryl's legs, onto the pretty bedsheets. _This could all be yours._ Negan's promise echoed in Daryl's mind, and he wondered again at the wisdom of not giving into this man, of holding onto pride in such a hopeless situation. Negan twitched out the last of his orgasm, shaking playfully before withdrawing, more blood and cum bubbling out behind him. Negan let out another wad of spit, just for fun, hitting Daryl's ass cheek, and laughed, wiping the mix of fluids off his cock sloppily onto the other cheek before standing and replacing his pants. Daryl shook and trembled on the bed, the pain was gone but it had been replaced with something unnameable, some silent shame that shook Daryl to the core in such an unexpected way. Negan removed his belt from Daryl's arms, tenderly, almost loving, causing a further stir of confusing emotion in Daryl as the painful pressure was alleviated. Almost immediately after being released, Daryl's arms shot down to pull up his pants, letting the thick grey fabric soak up the cum. Dwight had stopped holding his shoulders, staring forward blankly while he waited for further instruction. It came quickly, Negan ordering him up and back to the cell with a quick word and quiet motion from Lucille, but he stopped the pair for a moment, in the doorway.

"That was fun." He told Daryl, reaching a hand out to stroke his hair, "Maybe I'll come see you again tonight. Be a good boy, _Daryl_." He drew out the name, mocking, voice full of dark intent, before waving the pair away with Lucille, turning his back on them. Dwight pulled Daryl forward roughly, and the pair made their way back to the cell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't leave this one alone. I hope you enjoy the new chapter ^^
> 
>  
> 
> Check out this awesome fanart made by ironybluegoat on Tumblr. They make lots of awesome Neryl art, check em out:
> 
> http://ironybluegoat.tumblr.com/post/160206705815/fanart-for-simple-scribe-s-neryl-fic-on-ao3

Daryl was dozing fitfully on the floor of his cell when the loud _shunk_ of the door unlocking jolted him awake. Blinding electric light filled the tiny room, Dwight's spidery shadow falling familiarly on Daryl even as he held up a hand to shield his eyes. Rough hands shot forward at him, grabbing fistfuls of clothing and wrenching him out of the cell.

He was shoved along, through the halls, but saw no one. Dwight would cuff him hard upside the head every now and then, or toss his aching body to the ground, just to confuse him, or possibly just for fun. The pair made their way along quickly otherwise, until they came to a room with a door not unlike the one they'd just left. Upon opening, however, Daryl figured it to be about twice the size of his old cell, and he wondered warily why they had brought him here. A small metal stool stood in one corner, making Daryl's uneasiness grow. Dwight gave him a halfhearted shove into the room, Daryl's sharp black eyes noting for the first time the sheen of sweat across the man's burned face, his eyes darting around the small room anxiously as if something were about to jump out of the bare walls.

"Stand over there, and give me those clothes." Dwight instructed sharply, pointing to one corner of the room. Daryl moved forward without much thought, having grown used to following their simple instructions, and noticed a drain in the middle of the slightly sloped floor. Maybe they were going to hose him down, he thought miserably as he pulled the clothing off and tossed it obstinately at Dwight's feet. The other man just gathered the clothing in silence, glaring at Daryl. He'd put the clothes off to one side and was dragging a length of chain Daryl hadn't noticed from the corner, the iron coming to life with a metallic hiss as light glinted off it's links from the still-open doorway. Daryl tensed as Dwight approached, but he knew internally he should've expected something like this. Shivering in the cold air, he already missed his clothing, hands cupped modestly over his crotch. "Hold out your arms." Dwight said gruffly, and Daryl gave him an annoyed look, but Dwight just waited, eyes flashing with hope that his charge might give him an excuse for punishment. Instead, Daryl held out his arms in silence, and Dwight looped the chain tight around them, locking it in place. The cold metal bit into Daryl's flesh, pinching, but he watched silently as Dwight's spidery arms tossed the chain up and over a cross bar in the ceiling. He gave a little smile to Daryl, pausing dramatically before wrenching down on the chain, forcing Daryl's arms up sharply, high into the air. Naked body exposed, effectively immobilized, Daryl had to go up on tip toes to get any relief from his arms, but he gave an experimental pull on the chain. The crossbar above him looked thick and sturdy, and he figured he could probably use his legs in a pinch. Not that it would unlock the chain, or the door, he thought dejectedly. Dwight was looping the chain around a hook in the wall, then stepped back, eyes darting around the room in an uncomfortable attempt to avoid Daryl's nakedness. He met Daryl's eyes after a moment, jaw clenching reflexively, and looked about to say something when a familiar whistle drifted in from the hallway.

Dwight shot to one knee as Negan sauntered in, looking relatively plain in a crisp white T-shirt and black jeans, Lucille strung familiarly over one shoulder. He gave her an experimental swing before setting her tenderly in one corner. "Lucille plays a little rough, as I'm sure you've noticed." He shot Daryl a grin, as images of Glenn's death played painfully behind his eyes. "So today, she's just gonna keep us company." Dwight was shaking visibly from his spot on the floor, not looking up, and Negan gave him a disdainful glance before turning towards Daryl. He took a step forward, making Daryl flinch. Reaching out a hand, he ran it down the length of Daryl's exposed side, the soft flesh prickling with goosebumps. Negan was uncharacteristicly quiet, meeting Daryl's eyes and showing him some darkness there that made Daryl's stomach sink even lower. He could already feel himself drifting, going numb in an attempt to survive whatever was about to happen. From behind Negan, Daryl watched as Dwight tried to slip silently out the open door. Negan noticed too, somehow, though his eyes hadn't left Daryl's face, and snapped his fingers in Dwight's direction, making a hissing sound that froze the man in his tracks. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze from Daryl and turned to address D.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, smile melting from his face. Dwight managed to pale even further as Negan took a step forward, pushing the smaller man back, away from the door with nothing but his presence. Dwight stayed kneeling, silently begging Negan, half crawling away into the corner as the bigger man neared. Negan was pulling his shirt out from his jeans, lifting it over his head to reveal a bare expanse of skin, thick corded muscles winding their way across chest and arm. He reached for his belt buckle, undoing it slowly, deliberately, the metal clink causing Dwight to flinch from his spot on the floor. Negan just smirked, pulling out his rapidly-hardening cock from a mass of dark hair, stroking it lazily near Dwight's face while the smaller man stared pointedly at the floor. It was easy now for Daryl to see why getting fucked had been so painful. _It's gonna hurt all over again,_ he thought. _It's gonna hurt worse._

Negan stared down the length of his own body at D, eyebrows raising as he guided the tip of his cock toward's the smaller man's thin, tightly-pressed lips. "Say _ahh..._ " he said quietly, looking amused while he watched Dwight's internal struggle, face flushed with shame and embarrassment. Silently, however, his jaw opened, allowing Negan to slide his cock slowly in. Dwight's eyes shut tightly, as if he could wish himself elsewhere, but Negan just pressed forward, choking Dwight with his cock as the smaller man leaned backwards, his back hitting hard concrete all too soon. Negan placed his hand on the wall, palm flat, hips leaning in to pin Dwight's head while he made pathetic little choking noises. Negan just moved in and out, unconcerned, leaning his head back and letting out a satisfied groan. "Gooood boy...." he breathed, giving D one last gagging thrust before withdrawing, watching the saliva trail from Dwight's mouth to the floor, his arms instinctively wrapping around himself in a shivery hug. Still, Dwight remained respectively kneeling, and Negan took a moment to appreciate his handiwork, leaning down and grabbing Dwight's face so he could inspect it, forcing their eyes together. Satisfied with what he saw there, he straightened, making an impatient hand motion to Dwight.

"Now get the fuck out of my sight." Negan ordered, "And lock the door." Daryl noticed a distinctive shine to Dwight's eyes as he hurried out of the room, before any tears could fall. The hard metal door shut behind him, darkness falling heavy for a disorienting instant before a harsh red lightbulb, contained within a metal cage above the door, flickered to life, bathing the cramped room in an eerie crimson glow. The shadows seemed to swell and shift, and Daryl felt dizzy, strained arms going numb, until Negan turned to regard him and everything sharpened once more.

Negan was pulling something out of the back pocket of his jeans. "I think you've noticed, but sound reverberates like a mother fucker in these rooms." He was smiling as Daryl stared at the collar dangling from his hands. A small black box was attached to one side of it. Negan moved forward, brushing Daryl's hair to one side, causing him to flinch, but the big man just chuckled low, cinching the collar tightly around Daryl's throat. He adjusted it, making sure the black box was in place directly over Daryl's throat. Daryl swallowed tightly, Adam's apple bobbing beneath the box, while Negan continued. "I'm gonna need you to keep your voice down during this session. Otherwise..." He just looked pointedly at the collar. Daryl watched him hold up a tiny remote, "This is just for if I feel like it." He grinned then, and pressed a button on the remote. A small shock ran through Daryl's body, making his muscles clench, head snapping up, pain lancing through his jaw and shoulders. With the angle his arms were at, and the days of sleeping on concrete, the electric tensing was especially painful. He'd had worse, however, and didn't make a sound beyond a tiny hitch in his breathing. As the electricity faded, quick as it had come, Daryl noticed Negan was sliding his jeans off the rest of the way. "That was the lowest setting." he mused, "Fun, huh?" He folded the jeans and set them beside the little stool, along with the rest of his clothing, and turned back to Daryl. Standing there, completely relaxed, back straight, Negan looked like some ancient marble statue. He caught Daryl staring at him, and a sly smile came over his face as he closed the distance between them.

"Like what you see?" he rumbled, sliding his rough palm across the sensitive head of Daryl's cock, grasping him near the base and squeezing uncomfortably tight. Straining away was largely useless, but Daryl tried instinctively anyway, rattling chains as he twisted and tip toed backwards, a mixture of fear and disgust roiling in his stomach. His teeth bared in a feral sort of grimace, Daryl's eyes locked with Negan's after a brief moment of dancing avoidance. Time seemed to freeze, before Negan's low chuckle brought the world back, his hands withdrawing. "Oh yes." he was nodding, half to himself, while he sidled around behind Daryl, fingers grasping the man's hips, digging in painfully. "I love it." he whispered to Daryl from behind, leaning forward to speak low in his ear. The shivery tingle that went down Daryl's spine made him want to crawl out of his skin. "Maybe you should stay 'Daryl'," Negan continued, "You're just too damn much fun. And hey, if we get bored, we can always bring Rick over for a little fun." Daryl could feel him positioning his cock, the thick head pressed tight against his entrance. "A little _education._ " he hissed, and thrust forward.

Each inch was agony, sliding forward on nothing but precum while Negan let out a growling moan, body hunching as he slid himself home. Daryl felt like he would be torn open, the pain even worse than before, unrelenting, unimaginable. When Negan forced himself the last inch, Daryl let out a desperate "Fffffuck....!" Voice higher than usual, embarrassingly so, and too loud. His collar kicked on at the height of his shout, clenching all the muscles in his neck, his body's shocked reaction causing him even greater pain, even though Negan had graciously stopped moving. His captor let out a shaky breath that ended in something like a laugh, fingers easing up on their grip.

"I felt that." he whispered. " _Fuck_ yeah." He gave Daryl's ass a hard slap, the loud clap echoing around the tiny room. "Do it again." Negan growled, " _Scream for me._ " And began to move. He was merciless, untiring, powerful. They fell into a rhythm, the meaty slapping sounds gradually becoming wetter. _Am I bleeding?_ Daryl wondered. The whole room looked like it was bleeding, made of blood. Daryl's teeth ground together, body anticipating for each thrust, but he did not cry out. Negan took short breaks, where he stopped pounding away just long enough to bite Daryl roughly on the neck or shoulder, harder each time, trying to illicit a response. None came. This just seemed to amuse Negan, and he returned his focus to picking up the pace, driving himself hard and fast and deep inside Daryl. He was panting heavily when he spoke. "You think you're fucking tough don't you?" he breathed, "You're not fucking tough. You're nothing. You're my little fuck toy." He punctuated this fact with a few slower, especially hard thrusts. "No one lasts forever. I'm going to break you, you little fuck. I'll make you _beg_ for it." He paused then, reaching a hand out to grasp Daryl's soft cock. Negan began pulling at it, gently, coaxing it, and there was nothing Daryl could do to stop himself from growing hard. _No..._ he thought desperately. He gave a violent shake of the head, eyes screwed shut, and tried to focus on something else.

 _We're on easy street..._  
Negan's hand worked expertly at him, running smoothly up and down his shaft, thumb brushing the tip now and then to smear precum.  
_And it feels so sweet..._  
Somehow he knew just how much pressure to put, exactly when to speed up or slow down.  
_'Cause the world is but a treat, when you're on easy street..._  
Daryl could feel it building, his lips parting in a shaky breath as Negan began to move inside him ever so slightly, the tip of his deeply buried cock brushing against some point inside him, stoking the heat that grew greater low in his belly. Negan's hand was working quickly now, pumping back and forth frantically while he delicately massaged that point, and before Daryl could think he was seeing white, head tilting back in ecstasy as he came, thick cords of shimmering cum bursting forth to spill in glittering lines on the concrete floor. Daryl bucked, clenching, the pain and pleasure of that moment mixing together so confusingly, some part buried inside him taking a deep satisfaction from it. When he could feel his body again, dangling by limp arms from the chains, he could feel liquid dampening and running down his legs. Negan had withdrawn, and was moving around him to stand in front. A hand grasped Daryl's lanky hair, lifting his head limply up. Negan's eyes shone out from the darkness, glinting red in the light, roaming over Daryl's utterly spent expression. A wide smile tore across Negan's face, and he let Daryl's head droop back down, rolling languidly while his chest heaved up and down. Negan walked away, to the corner, and sat on the small stool, producing a water bottle from somewhere. He too was panting, leaning back and stretching in the chair with a feline grace while he took a long drink of water. He set it aside, and levelled his gaze with Daryl, who was starting to come fully back to himself, feet clumsily scrabbling on the floor in an attempt to stand.

"Now." Negan growled. "We're doing that again."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl gave an experimental tug on the ropes around his wrists, finding them to be quite solid and unmoving. He exhaled, sweat trickling down his bare skin as the sun overhead shone down mercilessly. 

He was tied to a wood and iron monstrosity erected in the centre courtyard of the Sanctuary. Some distance away, he could see a brown stain on the concrete, still dark and visible, from where he'd killed Fat Joey in his escape attempt. Emphasis on the _attempt_ \- when he'd been distracted killing that fat fuck, someone had run up behind him and tackled him to the ground, then proceeded to boot fuck him into oblivion. He'd blinked through blood long enough to see Jesus barely make it out, casting back an apologetic glance. Daryl didn't blame him one bit. He'd lost consciousness after a particularly harsh blow to the head, and woken up some time later, back in that fucking cell. Time passed, achingly slow, until Negan paid him a visit. Daryl flinched away instinctively, hating himself for it, but Negan hadn't said a thing, merely looked Daryl up and down with a smirk, then reared back to deliver a vicious punch to Daryl's temple, making everything go black.

He'd woken up stark naked and tied into a strange device. He was bent over, his torso resting on a small platform, his legs spread with a bar between them, affixed to bindings around each ankle. His arms were raised above his head on either side, tied to two posts, while his head rested on another support, cinched in place with a collar around his neck. Of course, he'd immediately pulled at the bindings, but none of them had any give, and the awkward position effectively removing any leverage he might have to struggle with. A hand came out to touch his face and he flinched as it delicately pushed back the lanky, sweat-soaked hair that hung around his eyes. Negan was there, kneeling in front of him, his dark eyes roaming over Daryl's face, who, in return, glared angrily at the ground. Negan just smiled, serene and calm. He made a motion, and someone off to one side handed Negan a square of cardboard with a bit of rope threaded through two holes in the top, and a large black sharpie.

"Now..." said Negan thoughtfully, "What should I write?" He chewed on the end of the sharpie, leaning back to sit on the gravel, stretching his legs out. His fingers drummed against the cardboard, "You know how I feel about rape," Daryl remembered his previous encounters with Negan, feeling sick, "But punishment is punishment, and sometimes the lines get a little blurred, especially when it comes to slaves." His eyes flicked up to Daryl's and then back down to the cardboard. He began writing on it in large, sharp motions, "Let's go with... _Please use me._ " He turned the sign around to show Daryl the large block letters spelling _PLEASE USE ME_ in vivid black marker. Negan grinned, and slipped the sign around Daryl's neck, where it swayed gently in the breeze. Daryl felt his rage grow, uncontrollable, as his mind caught up with the reality of what would happen. He growled, straining against his restraints, desperate to bite, punch, claw, _anything_ to hurt Negan. When the bonds held tight, he instead spat harshly at Negan's feet, his teeth grinding together furiously.

Negan had been turning to go, but looked down at the spit with a raised eyebrow. "That's just fucking disrespectful." he said, fishing in his pocket for something. "And here I was, undecided about using this or not, but you've just made my decision for me." He produced a strange looking bit of metal and leather, whistling sharply. Suddenly hands were grasping Daryl's head, squeezing painfully tight on his jaw until it opened, and Negan slipped a metal ring into Daryl's open mouth, quickly fastening the leather around the back of Daryl's head and pulling it tight. He was released with a gruff shove, but now could not close his mouth; instead, it hung open in a wide O, drool already dripping out and onto the dusty gravel. His chest was heaving, body shaking with rage, and he looked up at Negan, trying to put all the hatred and vitriol he felt for the man into that one look. Negan gave a mocking, shocked expression, sucking in air and put one hand to his breast, as if calming his beating heart. Then, he laughed, hoisted Lucille up and strode away, back inside the Sanctuary. The few other men who'd been around either followed or went their separate ways, and Daryl was left alone in the hot sun, sweaty and humiliated.

The sun inched it's way across the sky, elongating shadows, while people came and went about their business, casting sidelong, embarrassed glances Daryl's way. Not every gaze was embarrassed, however. Some eyes shone out from the growing dark with a predatory gleam, passing by, and then passing by again a short time later. They were circling, waiting for the night, building up their courage. One scruffy looking male approached as dusk settled on the world, striding slowly up to Daryl, who was drooling into the dirt, his muscles protesting their uncomfortable, forced positions. The man walked around Daryl, watching him, trailing tentative fingers across his bare skin, causing an involuntary shudder to run through Daryl's helpless body. The man stopped circling behind Daryl, rubbing his rough palm up and down one ass cheek, grabbing it roughly, giving it an experimental smack. He looked around the empty courtyard, nervous, but when no one came to stop him, he began to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his pants and drawing out his hardening cock. He stroked it slowly, then began rubbing it up and down Daryl's ass, sliding it between his cheeks, a low growl emanating from the back of his throat. Daryl let out a frustrated growl of his own, angry and helpless, his limbs vainly straining against their bonds, though nothing had changed to allow a bit of movement. A strangled cry escaped him as the man pressed against his opening, pressing forward, then relenting, pressing forward, relenting. There was little progress, so the man spat, aiming poorly, then spat again on his own cock, working it in. He pressed forward once more, catching, making the smallest amount of progress while pain lanced through Daryl's body. It continued, unrelenting, sliding in a fraction of an inch at a time, until the head was through, horrendous, and yet less painful. They paused there, frozen, as another man padded forward from the shadows, his eyes taking in the lewd scene hungrily. Glances were exchanged, the moment stretching, before the newcomer reached a hand down to unzip and reveal his own cock, stepping up towards Daryl's face, stroking himself.

Daryl cursed and tried to angle his face away, but tied as tight as it was to the collar, there wasn't much he could do. The stranger stuck his fingers inside the ring that held Daryl's mouth open, sliding around, checking the safety of it. Daryl's jaw spasmed as he tried to bite down or dislodge the apparatus, but it was no use, the thing was solid metal, and tied tightly around the back of his head, a metal X coming out from the O to ensure he couldn't flip the ring sideways and shut his mouth. Satisfied, the fingers retreated, and the man guided his cock forward with one hand. Just as the tip of it brushed against the ring, the man behind him thrust forward, sliding the rest of the way in in one go. A pained groan trailed out from Daryl's open mouth as the newcomer's cock slid inside, muffling it. Daryl's eyes bulged, and he pressed his tongue against the invader, trying to thwart it's progress, but it quickly became obvious it was futile. Indeed, the pressure of his wet tongue only caused the man to throw back his head and moan loudly into the night air.

The two men pumped in unison as Daryl strained, helpless, fingers and toes scraping the air frantically. Wet, rhythmic noises echoed in the courtyard, broken only by the men's groans of pleasure, and Daryl's squeaks, growls, and muffled sobs. Behind him, the man's cock filled him completely, and with no where to go, Daryl began to learn all he could do was relax himself, opening his muscles to better accommodate the cock, which, for it's part at least, hit something at the end of each thrust that sent a sick shiver of pleasure through Daryl. The man in front was more difficult, the end of each thrust hitting the back of Daryl's throat in horrible discomfort, causing him to gag and choke over and over without reprieve. Thick strands of drool trailed out and down, bits of spit flying out as the thrusts grew more frantic. Daryl felt his cock harden as each man grabbed him with their hands, the one behind digging nails into his bare ass, while the one in front gripping the back of his head. Their rhythm began to falter, quickening, skipping beats. The one behind went first, sighing heavily as he spilled his seed into Daryl's ass, each thrust making an unbearably lewd sound as he pumped hard, cum squishing out around the edges to wet Daryl's ass and drip down his legs. The first one just increased his pace while he watched this, gripping Daryl by the hair and thrusting deeper down his throat, his hips shaking, until he thrust forward one last time and froze, moaning, using his grip on Daryl's head to slide up and down on his cock while he shivered and shook, cum spurting down Daryl's throat, hot, so much of it Daryl could feel it making it's way down to rest heavy in his stomach. The man continued to bounce Daryl's head up and down, halfheartedly, while he threw his head back towards the sky, eyes shut rapturously.

An eerie whistling startled the two men from their reverie, and they hastily withdrew from a trembling Daryl, stuffing their flaccid cocks back into their pants as Negan stepped out of the shadows. His boots crunched on gravel, and the pair of men shot anxious glances towards one another, stepping away from Daryl and lining up to one side. Daryl just dripped, leaning slack against his bonds, distantly thankful for the support of the structure that had held him in his nightmare. Negan was staring at him, then turned towards the men, eyes uncharacteristically humorless, his jaw working back and forth while he thrust Lucille into the dirt and leaned against her.

"Did I ask you to do that?" he asked, silencing one man's reply with nothing but a look. "Did I give you permission to use my pet?" One man spluttered something about the sign around Daryl's neck, but Negan just rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he sprang forward, aiming a vicious kick at the first man's groin. He went down like a sack of bricks, rolling in the dirt, the other one only having time to adopt a dumb, shocked expression before Lucille swung, connecting directly with the side of his head and sending him sprawling as well. Negan barked a laugh, skipping forward to land a kick on the first's face, laying him out flat. The night reverberated with wet thudding, sending Daryl back to the night of Glenn and Abraham's death, while Negan and Lucille turned the two men into similarly unrecognizable chunks of bloody meat. After it was done, Negan straightened, panting, chuckling under his breath before turning back to regard Daryl, his face a mess of sprayed blood. "Fucking waste of breath trying to explain shit to these idiots." He paused, breathing deeply, letting out a huge sigh as he stretched his neck back and forth, collecting himself. Then, he walked over to Daryl, Lucille dripping red along the way, and bent down. Daryl flinched, his mind a staticy mess, tears staining his dirty cheeks, while Negan's bloody face came into view. The larger man's white eyes shone out, a grin splitting across his face as he leaned in, and planted a delicate blood-stained kiss on Daryl's cheek. Stunned, confused, something like gratitude stirred deep inside Daryl, growing greater as Negan released his bonds and shouldered him up, carrying him inside. Daryl only had a dim recollection of being led through twisting halls, being laid down in a bed, comforted in ways he had never known, and then nothing, as he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it!!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my writing please follow me on Tumblr. ^^ (lol oh god please talk to me)
> 
> http://simple-scribe.tumblr.com


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